


Papa

by TatyanaIvanshov



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: A PROPER MARIE LOUISE RELATIONSHIP, Adorable, Cute Kids, Daddies, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gay Parents, M/M, Monchevy as Parents, Papa Chev, Parents, So Much Cuteness, The cutest thing in the world, you're not prepared for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TatyanaIvanshov/pseuds/TatyanaIvanshov
Summary: Monsieur's children are at Versailles and the King is holding a soirée in their honor. When the Chevalier notices Marie Louise's lack of dance skills, he takes it upon himself to teach her and it leads to a conversation neither Philippe nor the Chevalier thought they'd have to have.
Relationships: Chevalier de Lorraine/Philippe d'Orléans | Monsieur (Versailles 2015)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	Papa

**Author's Note:**

> TW// EXTREME CUTENESS. Especially the Chevalier's relationship with the kids. 
> 
> Also, yes, technically, it doesn't fit in the plot timeline of the show but it does fit the historical one, about a year before Marie Louise was shipped off to Spain and the ages of all of them are historically accurate, unlike in the show. 
> 
> I held off posting this because I MIGHT want to post more Monchevy as daddies, I already have a few prompts in mind, but I think I'll just add those whenever. Tell me if there are any suggestions. 
> 
> ENJOYZIES.

Philippe smiled. 

With overflowing adoration, he watched from the door the people most dear to him and he could not help the amounts of pure love that found him. He leaned against the doorframe, admiring his lover, the beautiful Chevalier, and his graceful daughter, Marie Louise, giggling as she twirled around in his arms. 

“Stop looking down. Look at me.” Lorraine laughed, positioning her chin up. 

“I’m afraid I will step on you, papa.” The young princess followed his lead, placing a hand on his shoulder again and the other in his own as they danced. 

“Mon ange, you are as light as a feather. If you do, I will be fine. I took my shoes off for a reason.” 

“Of course, you could never risk your shoes.” She giggled, knowing him too well. He led her into a twirl which caught her off guard, her legs getting twisted together under the gown, only for her to tumble and she’d have fallen if it wasn’t for the Chevalier’s quick thinking. He caught her and brought her to her feet again, continuing the dance as usual. “Dear God, I should talk to your father about getting you a tutor. I assumed you already had one.” 

“I did. For a while.” She admitted. 

“I wouldn’t have guessed.” He laughed. “No, no. Your steps are wrong.” Philippe had to conceal laughter when he watched his lover explain with such passion the steps he had probably repeated a thousand times together with him. He eventually gave up. “Kick your shoes off.” She obeyed, so they were both in stockings. “Put your feet on mine.” He helped her up and adjusted her posture before beginning to move again. 

“I’m getting it.” Marie Louise laughed. “Can I dance with you tonight at the entertainment?” 

“Why do you think we’re rehearsing, mon ange?” The Chevalier laughed. “We can surprise your father as well. You know how fond he is of dancing.” He swayed with her on his feet to get her used to the correct steps. 

“With you. He isn’t as fond of dancing with others.” Marie Louise pushed behind her ear a dark curl that had been let loose and the Chevalier admired her beautiful features as they were mere replicas of those of his lover.

“He will love to dance with you.” He smiled. “You want to try that twirl again?” She nodded in response and hopped off his feet to try once more, successfully this time, her dark hair that cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves now flowed behind her. “There we go! Good girl. A little while longer and you shall be as graceful as your father.” 

But at the next mention of her father, her face fell, though she managed to force a smile. The Chevalier was quick to notice of course, and ask her what was wrong but she shrugged and attempted another twirl, though Lorraine knew her well enough to know she was only trying to distract him from further inquiry. Her father did the same.

“Ap-pa-pa-pa!” He stopped her and brought her back closer while continuing to sway. “Talk to me. What is it? I demand the spillage of beans!” He earned a chuckle from her. She seemed to debate whether she should say anything, her shoulders slumping in defeat. He knew she would speak. She never held anything from him. He remembered too clearly when she was a child, and they would retreat to Saint-Cloud, how she would sit in the private salons with him, and at times, Philippe as well, and talk about anything and everything she could think of. 

The Chevalier missed those days as they were much simpler, and though Henriette always made it difficult for him to spend time with her, it is what made those moments they did spend together all the more precious. 

“I only miss him.” She lowered her eyes. 

“As do I, ange, as do I.” He brought her closer to himself and placed his chin against her head. “I know he’s been awfully busy but there’s been so much going on. Your uncle Louis is quite demanding at times. It isn’t your father’s fault.” 

Philippe’s gaze fell to the floor at the turn the conversation had taken. All that ran through his head was how much he missed them too. Louis had truly been testing him lately and Philippe’s own mind had taken a toll on him. He hated neglecting his family so, but the Chevalier was familiar enough with his ways to know when to give him space and when he needed it even though it made Lorraine ache. 

“The last time we spoke, he mentioned my marrying. He said the details are unclear but it is probable that I will soon be wed.” She quietly spoke. 

“He told me about that. It may be a political match with the Spanish. But it is still very early on, who knows what turns these situations take?” His protective grip around her waist did not go unnoticed by Philippe who simply smiled. His heart always warmed at their closeness. At times, the Chevalier was more of a father to her than Philippe and Marie Louise loved him just as the other children did. “Trust your father, my dear. He is bound to duty but he does love you. He won’t let your uncle do with you as he wishes.”

“You trust him.” She spoke, whether question or statement, the Chevalier couldn’t point out. 

“I do.” He laid a kiss on her head before placing his chin there again. “He is my dearest… friend.” At his words, she snorted a laugh, enough to make the Chevalier suspicious. “What?” He pulled away to look down at her. 

“Oh, nothing. It is just amusing how you’ve maintained this charade for so long.” She stifled a laugh at the look on Lorraine’s face. Pure shock? Dread? He had never thought to inquire about that as he and Philippe had always been discreet around their children, but again, they were children and no one expected them to know better. But it seemed that had changed. The Chevalier did not know how to respond. “I am no longer a child, papa. I know what you two are to each other.”

Philippe swallowed and straightened himself out, having been unaware of this himself. He waited for the Chevalier’s next words, which was not a long wait.

“You do?”

“It is hardly a secret.” 

“How did you…” 

“It started off as a rumor but upon observation, it has become quite clear. Also, if my memory serves me right,” She led him into a twirl, taking the lead now as he continued to sway with him. “I remember noticing small things. Like the time I was walking with mother in the gardens and we found the two of you looking as if you had had a run-in with a wild boar?” Marie Louise laughed at Lorraine’s shocked expression. “Or when we were at Saint-Cloud and we were not allowed near father’s rooms? Or the fact that you never had your own rooms? Well, never used your rooms, to be exact.” 

“Mon ange,” He stopped dancing and took her hands, his gaze finding the floor. “I…” He seemed at a loss for words, something quite foreign when it came to the Chevalier. “I know it may be hard to understand… it’s… It’s… I wouldn’t expect you to understand but… but I do, I do love your father.” His apologetic eyes found hers. “A lot.” 

“I know.” Her response seemed to have taken him off guard.” 

“You know?” 

“Of course I know. Anyone with two eyes can see it, papa. No one loves father more than you, that much has always been clear to me, friends or not.” She chuckled when Lorraine only raised an eyebrow.

Philippe thought it cruel to leave such a situation for him to handle on his own. Though the situation didn’t seem to be skewing to a wrong direction, the Chevalier himself looked as shaken as one can be. He had to interfere. 

“Is that so?” Monsieur called from the doorway, snapping both their heads to him. The Chevalier almost looked relieved but the same couldn’t be said for Marie Louise who tensed. He pushed himself off the wooden frame he leaned against and strolled towards them, leaning against his study table as he watched the two. “And what do you have to say about it?”

Mary Louise thought for a second, unsure of her response. 

“What can I say, papa?” She shrugged. 

“You do not disapprove?” The Chevalier asked from behind her. She turned to him and shook her head, blonde, loose curls tumbling from the sides of her slender face. 

“I should but… why would I? My disapproval will not end something that, I'm assuming, has been going on for years, now.” 

“Twenty,” Philippe said. Her eyes widened and she looked between them, unable to believe the facts but she did manage to swallow back the knot in her throat and cover up her shock. 

“See? It will only hurt you. Both of you. And I- I do not want that.” She held her hands together in front of herself and twirled her fingers, chewing at the inside of her cheek.

Philippe spread his arms and she made her way into them, embracing him back in a hug as her father placed a kiss on her forehead. The Chevalier smiled as he watched, taking a seat at an armchair nearby. She pulled away but remained close, with his arm around her waist.

“It is only odd that you thought I didn’t know. I’ve known for a while.” She chuckled as she glanced between the two men who shared a shocked look. 

“Is that so?” 

“Indeed it is. It is exhilarating the gossip you hear when you do not announce your rank.” She looked up at her father.

The Chevalier laughed a little too loud, throwing his head back.

“You truly are your father’s daughter, aren’t you?” Lorraine’s giggles cracked Philippe who was trying to remain stern. “See, mignonette? I have taught her well.” 

“From the bottom of my heart, thank you.” He sarcastically said, feeding into the Chevalier’s amusement. “But before I interrupted, I believe you two were entertaining yourselves?” 

“Papa was teaching me to dance. Apparently I’m atrocious and walking like my father after a long night of drinking.” 

“Yes. A long night of drinking, that’s what I said.” The Chevalier knowingly smiled at Philippe who shot a glare his way but could not help smile at his meaning. “I asked her if she wanted to dance tonight and quickly found out she lacked quite a few skills. She is a fine young lady, she should be able to dance at gatherings.”

“Speaking of the gathering,” Philippe pushed off the desk and hopped towards his dressing table, plucking a silver box and rummaging through a drawer. “I came up here to ask you if you would want me to do your hair?” He seemed hesitant and nervous to ask but it was wiped away when he noticed his daughter’s face light up in a smile.

“Yes! My ladies cannot compare to you, papa.” She and the Chevalier both giggled. 

“Well, it is years of experience, my darling.” He sat on the bed and laid out the silver box from which he pulled out ribbons and hairpins, along with another box that contained the same pieces but much in more extravagant designs that the Chevalier recognized as some of the Prince's very favorite hairpieces. “Come. Sit.” He patted the edge of the bed and she hopped over, taking a seat. 

“We will continue with our lesson later then. After you are dressed, so you get used to the steps in shoes as well.” The Chevalier said from the chair, leaning his head back and admiring the tender sight of his lover as he caressed his daughter's hair, a sight that would warm even the coldest of hearts.

Just as Marie Louise was about to respond, the door swung open for little Philippe to come running in, the five-year-old laughing and giggling as his nine-year-old sister, Anne Marie came running after him. 

“Give it back!” She yelled, her little feet barely being able to carry her quick pace but, with a lifted dress, she did not stop chasing.

“No!” He jumped on the bed in an attempt to get away from her, messing up his fathers’ neat organization of hair accessories. 

“Philippe!” Monsieur held one hand on his daughter’s hair as his loud voice made the two children stop in their tracks. “What did you take? What’s going on?” His voice softened.

“He took my handkerchief!” Anne Marie jumped up and down in frustration, reaching over the large bed to try and grab the boy who had now climbed onto the pillows. 

“Did not!” He yelled, obviously hiding something away under his fattened sleeve.

“Did too! It’s right there, I see it!” 

The Chevalier pushed himself to his feet and walked over to them, kneeling by the little girl that seemed to gravitate closer to his protective, large body. 

“Alright, Philippe, give it back. Give her the handkerchief.” He instructed, holding out his hand for the boy.

“I didn’t take it!” He defended. 

“Darling, I see it.” Lorraine laughed, shaking his head but it only infuriated the little boy more. 

“I want it!” He yelled, crossing his arms over his chest. The Chevalier realized the situation was dire so he got on the bed with him, and brought the boy to his lap, tucking his hair out of his round face. He quite resembled Liselotte when it came to his eyes but his nose and lips were exactly as his sisters’, and theirs were exactly as Philippe’s. 

“Okay, tell me why? What’s so special about this handkerchief that you want it so bad.” He wiped a smudge of dirt from the boy’s cheek who only shrugged. So, Lorraine reached into his overcoat that had earlier been tossed on the bed and pulled out one of his own. “Here you go- no, wait. Not that one. It has your fathers’ initials on it.” He and Philippe both shared a look before he reached back to his coat to grab another and handed it to the boy. “Have mine. It’s Persian silk. Feel how soft it is.” The young boy reached over and touched, taking it in his hand to inspect it. “Will you give the other back to your sister?” 

He was reluctant, looking between the young girl that walked forward and the Chevalier who continued caressing his hair. Eventually, he gave in, reaching into his sleeve and pulling the handkerchief out, to hand it to Anne Marie who snatched it away. 

“Good boy. There we go. If you wanted one for yourself, you only had to ask, mon chou.”

Liselotte came rushing in with the one-year-old baby in her arms, little Elizabeth Charlotte. She sighed in relief when she saw the two children sitting on the bed and their eldest with her back to Philippe who continued working on her hair. 

“There you are. Good grief.” She plopped down on the armchair and repositioned the baby. “They just ran off screaming, scared the living hell out of me..”

“Serves you right for dismissing the governess!” The Chevalier’s smug expression earned him a mocking face from Liselotte. 

“I do not need a governess at all times. I can raise my own children.” She glanced down at the cooing baby. 

“You are too stubborn for your own good.” Monsieur laughed, lifting another ribbon to add to Marie Louise’s hair. 

“Marie Louise, is your father holding you captive again?” She joked. “Blink twice for help.”

“Ha. Ha.” Philippe snarled. “I wasn’t holding her captive!” He referred to one night a few weeks ago where he kept her up until midnight, practicing a new braiding technique on her as the Chevalier groaned sleepily to ‘let the poor girl go’. 

“Philippe, we had to chop off a lock of hair from how tangled you got them.” She reminded him in amusement. 

“It’s not my fault that he,” His head pointed at the Chevalier behind him. “Didn’t read the instructions correctly!” Philippe said in defense.

“Hey, hey, hey! Don’t blame me!” 

“Papa!” Anne Marie’s small voice came through as she managed to tumble and hop towards Philippe, plopping down beside him. “It’s not papa’s fault.” She said with an adorable pout that made the adults giggle. “Do not blame him. He was tired. Were you not?” The young girl turned to the Chevalier. 

“That’s right. See? She knows.” He reached over and grabbed her face to nuzzle his nose in the full cheeks before placing a harsh, sloppy kiss on her right one, that made her groan and wipe her face as the Chevalier laughed. She always protested and this time was no different. “Don’t wipe it!” He placed another and she wiped it again with a smug grin. He did it again and the same reaction was invoked. “You are as wicked as your father.” 

The Chevalier dragged her closer as she giggled and was caught in his arms. He got to his feet and carried her up, placing kisses all over her face as she squirmed and groaned. 

“Put me down!” She laughed but the Chevalier kept on, tossing her in the air as Philippe watched and laughed. But it was cut short when he felt something hit his leg which, when he looked down, realized it was little Philippe, tugging at his breeches and reaching up.

“Put down my sister!” He scowled. 

“Are you going to defend her honor?” The Chevalier bent over so he was eye-to-eye with the boy. 

“Yes!” He hopped, reaching for her but Lorraine pulled her away and tossed the girl in the air again, her cheek landing once more on his lips. “I shall fight you!” 

“Save me, Philippe! The bad man has got me!” She called out to her little brother. “He is torturing me with kisses!” Lorraine gave an evil laugh as he slid away, the boy chasing behind him. 

“I will defeat him.” He grabbed a wooden sword and hurried behind him.

“Be careful!” Liselotte called from the chair.

“Go get him, Philippe!” Monsieur called out to his son but the sounds were muffled as he was holding a hairpin between his lips, waiting to stick it into the dark strands of hair that he was twisting up. 

“You’re taking his side?” The Chevalier exclaimed in shock. “I cannot believe this.” 

“I will take the bad man down, papa!” Little Philippe yelled as he ran towards the Chevalier with a sword pointed at him. 

“No!” Lorraine dragged out the ‘o’ as he tumbled to the ground, leaning back against the closet and sticking his tongue out with eyes shut, acting dead. “He got me.” Anne Marie escaped, running away but the little boy was not as lucky. “Too late!” The Chevalier lifted little Philippe into his arms and pushed himself to his feet, continuing his torture method of kissing. “Caught a war prisoner. Ha ha!” This one was much easier to lift as he was quite smaller and he tossed him into the air continuously, nuzzling kisses though he resisted. 

“My turn to save you, brother!” She slapped Lorraine's legs to put him down. 

“The bad man is too powerful and shall never be defeated.” He ran around the room with the boy in the air.

“I’m flying!” He giggled. 

“Ah! It seems my prisoner is happy. We can’t have that, now, can we?” The Chevalier brought him back down and plopped onto the bed, sweating and flushed. 

“Is that all you got, old man?” Little Philippe crawled away from him and picked up his wooden sword again.

“Who you calling old man?” The Chevalier said between pants as Monsieur nearly fell back in laughter. 

“You are getting old, ma moitié.” He teased, tying a ribbon around a strand of hair. 

“You’re older!” Lorraine exclaimed. 

“I’m not the one out of breath from a little physical activity. It seems the bad man is defeatable after all.” Philippe had his lover groan in displeasure. 

“Oh, is that so? I’ll show you physical activity, old man.” The Chevalier reached forward on the bed, on his elbow, his face too close to Philippe’s which was brought to their attention by Liselotte who cleared her throat. “Oh, you. I only meant in a duel. At dawn!” 

Marie Louise laughed.

“Hold still.” Philippe’s fingers worked quick, braiding down her hair before turning back to Lorraine. “I thought the elderly require more sleep than the rest of us. Would dawn not compromise your health?” The Chevalier gasped in shock. 

“It is preposterous you call me elderly at the tender age of 35. I am in my prime, I’ll have you know.” He leaned back against the pillows, Anne Marie crawling over to snuggle against him and hand him a book.

“Read to me.” She laid her head on his shoulder and watched as Lorraine flipped through the pages that had been flipped through almost daily since the kids had been back at Versailles for a few days.

“Demanding now, are we? Where did we leave it off last time?” He asked but the little girl shrugged. “Did we read the one with the bunny and the dear?” 

“Yes.” 

“The ladybug and the bird?” 

“Yes. Twice!” She dramatically showed the number with her fingers. 

“Oh, dear.” Lorraine laughed. “How about your father tells us a story instead? I’m too out of breath to read anything.” Philippe was ready to protest but the two children yelled out in approval, jumping up and down.

“Hush, you two! You’ll wake Elisabeth!” Liselotte hissed and the children quickly clapped their hands over their mouths in a manner that made Philippe and the Chevalier laugh.

“Please, papa,” Anne Marie whispered. 

“I would like to hear one myself.” Marie Louise said as she handed her father another hairpin. 

“I hate you for bringing it up.” Philippe scowled at the Chevalier who only giggled and laid back with Anne Marie on his chest. “Very well. What kind of story?” He braided another strand. 

“War story!” Little Philippe exclaimed, earning another ‘Shh..’ from Liselotte.

“Well, he’s got plenty of those too.” He shoved Lorraine by the thigh.

“Yes, but you tell them much better, mignonette.” The Chevalier took Philippe’s hand and led it up to his lips to place a kiss on it before allowing it to go back to working on the hair.

“Alright, how about we tell one from Cassel? We were both there, we can tell it together.” The Chevalier’s hand reached out to Philippe’s back, drawing aimless shapes over the linen fabric that draped over his upper body.

“Were you ever captured?” The little boy sat, cross-legged nearby, listening intently. 

“No-” 

“What about wounded?” He balanced his little face on his hands. 

“I was.” The Chevalier admitted. “In the foot.” The two children dramatically gasped, Anne Marie raising her head to look at him. 

“Oh no!” She exclaimed. 

“By a grenade!” He tickled Anne Marie, startling her into a fit of giggles. “Boom!”

“How did you survive?” The little boy’s eyes were wide and unblinking.

“Your father tended to me. He insisted on doing it himself.” They shared a look, unable to suppress smiles as they recalled the day. 

“I was not going to let some filthy doctors near him.” Philippe scrunched his nose and they did the same back, making the two men laugh at how adorable they were. “He was losing blood so I had to act quickly. I carried him into my tent and tended to him until he was all bandaged up and secure.” 

“Were you conscious, papa?” Marie Louise asked, unable to turn back and look at him in fear of ruining her father’s handiwork. 

“I was slipping in and out,” The Chevalier replied. “I don’t remember much. But when I woke up, your father had everything under control. They did fear I had a minor concussion though, but-” 

“What’s a concussion?” Little Philippe asked, slurring the word.

“Uhm… it’s like…” Lorraine struggled to explain.

“It’s when you don’t feel so well after a blow to the head. Confusion, and such.” Marie Louise butted in and the Chevalier nodded. 

“Yes, that. They said I might have one but, as it turns out, I was fine. But, of course, your father insisted on staying by my side no matter what.” The Chevalier’s hand continued to rub Philippe’s back and even twirled his fingers in his hair as he spoke. 

“He was whining too. One moment he was hot, the next he was cold, then he wanted food, and then when the food arrived he wasn’t hungry, and then he wanted to get up, and then he’d be his dramatic self and yell about how he was dying. It was like taking care of a big baby.” He playfully glared at the Chevalier who was laughing. 

“He’s like that regardless,” Liselotte commented with a smirk.

“So one moment I’m an elderly man, and the next, I’m a big baby? Make up your minds!” He scoffed, making Anne Marie giggle.

“An elderly baby, how about that?” Philippe laughed.

“How would that even work?” Marie Louise chuckled before hissing in pain when her father accidentally pulled a little too harshly at a strand of hair but quickly apologized. 

“Don’t ask. Never ask. One thing I’ve learned in my time knowing your father is to never ask.” The Chevalier said as if it was the most dreadful thing in the world, earning another smack on the thigh by Philippe.

“Back to the story?” Liselotte asked.

“Ah, yes, the story. Your father, of course, won the war and brought glory to all of France. And we lived happily ever after!” The Chevalier said, placing a peck on Anne Marie’s hand and forehead. 

“I couldn’t have done it alone. I had the infamous Chevalier de Lorraine with me, did I not? He was so brave. Slaughtered the enemy soldiers as you’ve never seen before!” Philippe passionately described to elicit an excited reaction from his son who gasped.

“You did?” His mouth fell open. 

“I did. There was not a single man left standing when I was done with them!” The Chevalier scooped him up into his other arm, holding one of them at each side against the pillows. 

“I want to be a Chevalier too.” He looked up at Lorraine.

“Oh, but you’re a petit-fils de France! A Prince, a duke. Someday, maybe more.” The Chevalier teased. 

“Hey, you’re a Prince too!” He said to Lorraine who laughed and nodded.

“As is your father.” The Chevalier continued to caress the boy’s hair. 

“Done!” Philippe exclaimed. Closely eyeing his masterpiece. The Chevalier made a comment about how quick he’d finished it but Philippe just continued looking closely at the intricate updo to locate any loose strands. “Go look in the mirror, mon ciel étoilé.” He watched her walk towards the mirror and laid back next to his son, the Chevalier, and his daughter. Lorraine reached out a hand to brush away from Monsieur’s face a strand of hair with a smile, enraptured with love for him. 

“Tu es mon ciel étoilé.” He whispered, watching Philippe’s lips tug into a smile that all he wanted to do was kiss. 

“Et vous le mien.”

The children were too caught up in their sister’s hair to notice the way they were gazing at each other but when Marie Louise turned, she smiled, fondly watching her fathers before their eyes left each other and they turned back to their daughter. 

“You look beautiful, mon ange. You will be the envy of the court.” The Chevalier smiled, attempting to maneuver his hand to wave her over, though his arms were wrapped around the two kids. She did, sitting on the bed and reaching over to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Because I will be dancing with the best papa.” She smiled at him.

“Pardon me?” Philippe gasped.

“And then I will dance with the other best papa.” Marie Louise went over to him and placed a kiss on his cheek as well, one so chaste and kind, Philippe’s smile widened. 

“Do my hair too!” Anne Marie demanded and wiggled out of the Chevalier’s arms, making herself comfortable in front of her father who began to laugh and scooped her into his lap.

“Next time. I promise. Now, we must dress. The sun is setting, we will be expected at the salons soon.” He earned an angry pout from his middle daughter as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, don’t be like that. How about this- while papa is dancing with your sister, I will dance only with you. We will show them who the real dancers are.” He nuzzled her cheek with kisses which she wiped away. 

“Alright, fine.” She grinned again. 

“When we’re back at Saint-Cloud, we’ll host a big party there, and I’ll do both your hair and mine as well and we’ll dance all night. How does that sound?” He adjusted her hair in admiration of the thick strands. 

“Great.” She scrunched her nose with a smile. 

“Good.” The Chevalier laughed. “Now, run along. Off into your own bed chambers. I expect you ready and dressed in an hour.” He placed a kiss on little Philippe’s forehead and then reached over to Anne Marie’s who slid down her father’s lap and walked over to her stepmother. He placed a last kiss on Marie Louise’s hand before letting her go. 

“Yes, papa!” Little Philippe crawled off the bed.

“I’ll deal with them.” Liselotte pushed herself to her feet and, with the baby still asleep in her arms, she reached a hand out for little Philippe to take. “Come along, you two.” 

Monsieur smiled as he watched them walk away, filled with adoration for his family. He felt a hand on his, and his heartfelt it would burst. The Chevalier gazed at his lover longingly from the pillows, his golden locks spread across the red covers and he looked absolutely regal. Philippe took his time to crawl closer until he was on top of the Chevalier, studying the beautiful face as Lorraine’s hands brushed and caressed his hair so they were not in the way. 

“Can I also have a dance?” He smiled down at his lover. 

“Ah, why would you want to dance with a- what was it- elderly baby?” Lorraine made Philippe chuckle as he laid down on top of him, going to feel his soft skin, aimlessly tracing.

“Forgive me. ‘Baby’ was too far. How about just old man?” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yes. Like, a very, very, old, wrinkly man. Ancient, for that matter.” 

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Mhm. One of those old men that can’t even lift from a chair-” He was cut short by his own squeal when the Chevalier flipped them over and crawled between his legs, on top of his lover, taking his lips with a ferocious kiss that left them both panting for air. 

“I’ll show you old man. And when you’re begging for mercy, screaming my name, maybe the old man might just give up and decide he has broken a hip.”

“That would be tragic.” Philippe had already started to work his lips on his lovers’ neck, undoing his cravat. 

“The old man cannot do this now. He has a gathering to dress you for. Wouldn’t want to waste what little energy he’s got.” He batted his eyelids innocently and pulled off, kneeling between Philippe’s legs. He sat up and met his lips again.

“You, my love, are absolutely wicked.” 

“Mmh, if I can have a dance tonight, then maybe we’ll revisit the situation after we retire to our rooms.” 

“Or, I’ll just take what’s mine.” Philippe attempted another kiss but Lorraine pulled back, hopping off the bed and reaching his hand out to the Prince. 

“Nope. Tonight. Or else we’ll be late, even by your standards. I don’t want to leave Marie Louise waiting,” He said. Philippe hesitantly took his hand and nuzzled closer, wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist. 

“You are the best father.” 

“As are you, mignonette.” The Chevalier reached down and claimed his lips, ravishing his mouth with all his might before pulling back and brushing his fingers against his cheek. “Come on, now.”


End file.
